The Means of Uniting Them
by meverse
Summary: P&P Variation - What if Darcy had let himself get angry enough to jump off his horse when he saw Wickham in Meryton instead of just touching his hat and riding off? Disclaimer: Everything belongs to our dear Jane Austen, to whom we are all indebted for such lively characters and compelling stories.
1. Chapter 1

**The Means of Uniting Them **

**Chapter 1**

As they rode into Meryton, Darcy still fought within himself. The excitement he felt upon seeing Elizabeth – _Miss Bennet_ – again, had to be subdued. He had missed her, oh how he had missed her, but she must not know, for her own sake. His thoughts so occupied him that he barely noticed Bingley's pleasantly surprised gasp.

"Is that not the Miss Bennets there, Darce? How fortunate!" Bingley exclaimed, hurrying his horse towards them.

Darcy followed Bingley's gaze to a group standing along the side of the main street. A smile escaped as his eyes fell on Elizabeth – _Miss_! – a few errant curls escaping from her bonnet and her face lit with the joy of being with friends. He had eyes only for her, though he schooled his features into an expression of proper indifference.

"How fortunate," Bingley repeated, "for we were just on our way to inquire after your health. And yet here you are!"

The two elder Miss Bennets curtsied gracefully to the gentleman, while the others seemed to bob noncommittally. Miss Jane Bennet smiled up at Bingley. "Yes, here we are. It is such a pleasure to see you, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy. And thank you for your concern. As you can see I am quite recovered."

Bingley jumped down from his horse to be near her as Darcy removed his gaze from Elizabeth – _Miss Elizabeth, good God man!_ – and noticed that the two youngest Bennet girls were giggling with a young soldier and that two other gentleman were part of the group. The man who was obviously a cleric he skipped over with no interest but the gentleman with his back turned to Darcy seemed familiar. As Darcy prepared to dismount, his thoughts centered on being as near to Miss Elizabeth as possible, the unknown gentleman turned around. Darcy felt his body go into a shock of a few seconds, not knowing, not feeling, not moving.

And then he knew, felt, and moved all at once. Wickham! In Meryton! Next to Elizabeth! Not 4 months after breaking dear Georgiana's heart and almost ruining their life, here he was. The scoundrel! Righteous anger pulsed through him alongside the blood; all he could see was Wickham.

Darcy was off his horse, though he couldn't actually remember dismounting, and it was the work of a moment for his decision to be made. He could walk away, it was too fresh after all to think completely rationally in such a situation. He could walk away, but Elizabeth – his Elizabeth – was standing next to Wickham. He could not walk away.

Elizabeth, unable to know the tumultuous thoughts going on in Darcy's head, saw only the reaction to her new friend Mr. Wickham. Mr. Darcy had looked pleasant, as though he was actually glad to see them, until Mr. Wickham turned around and she watched Mr. Darcy's face harden in anger and hatred, his eyes narrowing in disgust. The shock of such a transformation made Elizabeth take a step back, enough to see the color drain from Mr. Wickham's face. Before Mr. Wickham had a moment to recover himself, Mr. Darcy had moved to stand in front of him, towering and stormy.

For a few moments, neither spoke or moved; Darcy focused on reining his temper – he could not let Elizabeth see him so – and Wickham quickly thought through multiple scenarios where he would not end of up on the other end of Darcy's blade. Wickham recovered first.

"My dear Mr. Darcy. Such a pleasure," Wickham drolled, with a mocking tilt of his head.

Darcy wanted to punch the silly little smirk of his face, but realized that they had now garnered the attention of the group, so standing even closer and lowering his voice he said, "How dare you stand here like a gentleman. How dare you stand amongst kind and proper people as though you are one of them. My father, your father, would be ashamed of you. I do not know what you think you are doing here, but get out of my sight. Do not importune this people any further."

Wickham flushed in embarrassment but decided to gait Darcy again. "Darcy, old fellow, you are too harsh." He raised his hand and his eyes to the group surrounding them. "I have just made some new acquaintances and I won't have you interrupting what is a lovely beginning." At the end of his speech his eyes landed on Elizabeth and raked over her body. Darcy didn't even notice Elizabeth's flush as he grabbed Wickham by the collar and brought him nearer.

"Oh please don't let me interrupt, " Darcy growled. "I'm sure eventually you would have gotten around to telling them that you are a liar, a squanderer, a cheat, and a seducer. I will only repeat myself once, Wickham. Get out of my sight." With this, he threw Wickham back and moved protectively in front of Elizabeth.

Wickham straightened his jacket and with narrowed eyes he whispered, "This is not over, Darcy," before he motioned to his friend in the uniform and stalked away.

Elizabeth, now standing behind Mr. Darcy, couldn't believe what had happened and, more specifically, that Mr. Darcy had showed emotion. Anger, at that, but emotion nonetheless. She watched as his broad back lost some of its tension and he turned around to face her and Bingley, who now stood near.

"Miss Bennet, Bingley, I must apologize for that display," he said with a small bow. To Bingley he said, "That is the gentleman we spoke of on our journey from London, the son of my father's steward."

Mr. Bingley seemed to know to what Mr. Darcy was referring from his shocked and concerned expression but Elizabeth's confusion became even greater as she tried to piece together what she had seen. It must have been evident on her face because when Mr. Darcy turned to her, his face softened and he seemed to take a deep fortifying breath. He looked at the group standing around and said, "Please forgive my temper. I should not have had that discussion in public. But I hope you will forgive me and allow Mr. Bingley and I to escort you all wherever you are going."

Bingley, of course, thought it was a capital idea and, as the ladies were just heading home, offered Miss Jane Bennet his arm and led his mount in the direction of Longbourne. The younger Miss Bennets skipped along after them but when Darcy turned back to Miss Elizabeth, she was still standing in place, confusion - and was it fear? – apparent in her eyes. Immediately Darcy was by her side.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy began, "Please walk with me. I will explain my abhorrent behavior if you will let me."

Elizabeth could do naught but stare at the man in front of her, pleading, kind and sympathetic. This was not Mr. Darcy, or at least not the Mr. Darcy she had been in company with for the past month. He looked at her so intently and so kindly that she knew not how to respond. She heard Mr. Darcy calling her name, but she couldn't reconcile the taciturn, cold Mr. Darcy with the angry, passionate Mr. Darcy of before nor with the different man before her. She was just beginning to feel her confidence return when she realized that Mr. Darcy was taking her hand in his and looked extremely concerned.

"Miss Elizabeth, please. You cannot keep looking at me so or I shall continue into a spiral of shame which I know you would not approve of." He looked behind him to where Bingley and the Bennets were still walking ahead and then back to Elizabeth with some urgency. "Madam, we really should join your sisters."

Elizabeth flushed with embarrassment and pulled her hand from his as she turned to follow the others. "I seemed to have lost myself for a moment, Mr. Darcy. Thank you for staying to accompany me, but I can assure you I am well."

"I am glad to hear it," Darcy murmured, grabbing his horse's lead and hurrying to walk beside her. She seemed to be deliberating over something and Darcy had just decided to start the conversation when she also began to speak.

"Miss Elizabeth, would you allow me to –"

"Sir, I am very confused –"

They had both stopped to speak and now smiled as they turned to continue walking while Darcy motioned that she should continue. Darcy was glad that she was smiling again, she looked so lovely when she smiled. Elizabeth on the other hand, was trying to remember if she had ever seen Mr. Darcy actually smile before and how handsome he looked when he let himself, so she took a moment to restart the conversation.

"The confrontation before, for indeed sir I can think of no better word for it, was so unexpected and seemed so unlike the manner in which you have conducted yourself in our society, that I confess I am very confused. Would you, that is, I was wondering if you would now explain yourself, or however much you are able to at this time."

Mr. Darcy glanced at the woman beside him. He did say he would explain all, although how much of "all" he was actually going to tell her he now pondered. He knew she was kind and loyal to those she loved but what about him? How did she feel about him? Would she protect his secrets? Bingley had told him to be more trusting, that everyone was not as malicious as Darcy liked to assume. Could he trust Elizabeth?

At that moment, Elizabeth turned her head and met his eyes with such an open expression of sincere interest that Darcy knew he could deny her nothing.

"Miss Elizabeth, what I have to say may cause you pain and some degree of discomfort for which I would like to apologize in advance. I shall try to guard my words but some of the events are so recent and so fresh a wound that I have still not come to terms with them myself.

"Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge. My father was not only fond of this young man's society, whose manners were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner."

Here he noticed the Elizabeth had moved closer so she could better hear and he felt himself instinctively offer her his arm. That she took it and then met his eyes to urge him to continue were almost his undoing. Yet he knew he must continue on. "My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me, to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow—and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. Soon after, Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment. He had some intention, he added, of studying law, and I rather wished, than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman; the business was therefore soon settled—he resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds.

"All connection between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. Being now free from all restraint, his life was one of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad.

"You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition to it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances—and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. After this period every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not."

They had, at this point reached the outskirts of Longbourne and, not wishing to lose her company or leave Elizabeth with half the story, Darcy bade her to slow her walk. Her hand was over her mouth after covering a small gasp, a reaction to his tale, and she seemed to be recovering her wit as she looked up at him. He knew not how to proceed.

"You have covered 'liar, squanderer, and cheat' Sir. Do you have anything else to accuse Mr. Wickham?" She said the last with a tilt of her head and a teasing raised eyebrow, an obvious ploy to bring good humor back into the conversation. Darcy could have kissed her then and there.

Instead he sadly smiled and said "My dear madam, if I could end my tale there I would, most heartily, but last summer he imposed himself on those I hold dear, most painfully. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget and Miss Bennet?" He stopped walking to look at her fully and, having her hand on his arm, she was obliged to stop as well.

"Miss Bennet, I feel no doubt of your secrecy but I must ask that what I am about to tell you never leaves our conversation. A young lady of my intimate acquaintance was taken from school and visited Ramsgate last summer; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and her companion in whose character the young lady's guardians were most unhappily deceived. By her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to this young lady that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen."

"Oh my! How cruel and terrifying," cried Elizabeth. "And then?"

Darcy nodded and motioned for them to continue their walk. He wanted to tell her all. He wanted to tell her of his joy in seeing Georgiana again, his confusion at finding Wickham in the townhouse, and his anger when Georgiana revealed all. He wanted to tell her of Georgiana's heartbreak at being so misled and his own guilt at placing her in such a position in the first place. Instead he said simply, "One of her guardians joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement and the young lady acknowledged all. Wickham was thrown from the house under duress."

"And the young lady?" Elizabeth asked tentatively. "Still recovering," Darcy sighed.

Elizabeth peaked up at him from under her bonnet but quickly turned her eyes forward when she saw the honest pain and suffering written on his face. She wondered if Mr. Darcy was seriously attached to this young woman of whom he spoke. Mr. Darcy, feeling love and attraction? It seemed unlikely, yet he had acted so unlike her previous understanding of him over the past hour. She was sure of nothing, except that she was grateful for his interference and cognizant of the great honor he bestowed by sharing this story with her. He did not owe her anything, yet he had trusted her with something that obviously meant a great deal to him.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for narrating so faithfully all your dealings with the gentleman. I am slightly shocked and overwhelmed but I do thank you." She seemed nervous and on the verge of speaking when they rounded a corner and Longbourne House was before them.

"Was there something else, Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked, not wanting to lose an opportunity to better understand her.

"I just… I wanted to…" She stopped and turned to face him, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I think I may have misjudged you, sir."

Ah, so humor and challenges were her mechanism. She had told her friend Miss Lucas that she was not made for melancholy, well here was the second time that she had used her wit and charming smile to drive the sadness away. Darcy let himself smile down at her, longing to take her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to keep that happiness near him at all times. She was a light, a beacon of hope.

"As long as I am now redeemed, madam," he replied with a slight bow.

"Darcy!" Bingley strode towards them with Miss Jane Bennet on his arm. "We have just been invited to tea. You don't have anything pressing at Netherfield, do you?"

"Not at all, Bingley. Thank you for the invitation Miss Bennet." As the group began entering the house, Darcy turned and bowed again to Elizabeth, retreating quickly into his habitual stiff and proper self before having to endure the mother.

"Oh no, Mr. Darcy, that will not work at all," Elizabeth exclaimed walking past him and into the house.

"Pardon me?"

"We have seen you smile now and I know your secret." This she said over her shoulder as she removed her bonnet. For a moment Darcy panicked, regretting his candidness and openness from before. "You can be quite a conversationalist when you put your mind to it. I shall not let you hide behind your mask of indifference now."

A small sigh of relief escaped Darcy as he watched her head to the drawing room after a quick teasing glance in his direction. Of course she would be discreet, she wouldn't betray his trust. Oh God, he loved when she teased him. And to call it his mask! She and Georgiana would be thick as thieves…. But no. That was a dangerous line of thought. He had done his duty in protecting Elizabeth from Mr. Wickham and that was all there was. He had let his guard down in order to better equip her for whatever tales Wickham would tell, but it was for her own good that he must now revert to his rigid and proper behavior. Yes, she was lively and kind and happiness incarnate - _and perfect_, his heart screamed, _perfect for you_ - but that did not excuse her mother, or her sisters, or her relations in trade. No, he had done his duty by Elizabeth and now he must remember his duty to his family. Armoring himself with that thought he handed his hat and overcoat to the maid with instructions about his mount and strode into the drawing room.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Means of Uniting Them**

**Chapter 2**

"I do hope I am not injuring any of my fair cousins by my presence in the coach," Mr. Collins said with an air of affected humbleness. "Of course, if we were so fortunate as to be traveling to Rosings Park, instead of to Meryton, and to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, instead of your excellent Aunt Phillip's, I daresay we would be more at ease - for her Ladyship's conveyances are as large as they are grand and so exceedingly comfortable. It is my dearest wish that you all will experience Lady Catherine's condescension and generosity. Indeed, I have never in my life witnessed such behavior in a person of rank, such affability, as I have experienced from Lady Catherine. She has been beyond gracious to advise me in the betterment of my own modest parsonage and she even condescended, as I believe I have already expressed, to advise me to marry as soon as I could so that I set the example of matrimony in my parish." At this, his portentous glance fell on Elizabeth who had the sudden, and overpowering, desire to disappear. Jane squeezed Elizabeth's arm sympathetically, which almost seemed to make it worse, while Mary seemed to find nothing odd with Mr. Collin's communications. Kitty and Lydia had no notion at all that anyone other than themselves were near, so full were their minds and conversation of officers and lace.

They, being the five Bennet sisters and Mr. Collins, were piled into the Bennet's carriage on the way to the small card party hosted by their aunt. Turning away from Mr. Collin's insinuating looks, Elizabeth checked her pocket for her father's note. She had been instructed to hand it directly to her uncle upon arrival. Of course, the note reminded her of her discussion with her father that morning which of course led to thoughts of a certain tall and distinguished gentleman from Derbyshire.

The previous afternoon, Mr. Darcy's more open and agreeable manner had lasted all of five minutes in Mrs. Bennet's presence. Elizabeth cringed remembering her mother's overt attentions to Mr. Bingley, her curtness to Mr. Darcy, and the general effusions of both Mrs. Bennet and her younger sisters over the militia. She had watched, mortified, as the warmth in Mr. Darcy's eyes faded and his manner became stiff until he excused himself from the conversation between herself, Jane, and Mr. Bingley to stare out of the window. The tension in his shoulders and the firm set of his jaw spoke to his abhorrence of the situation, or so Elizabeth thought.

Mr. Bingley had shifted nervously and spoken to Jane and Elizabeth – "Please excuse my friend, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. He is uncomfortable in social gatherings, even of a small nature, when he feels he has nothing to contribute to the conversation. Making inconsequential talk is not his forte."

"Does Mr. Darcy think himself so above the present company that he should not have to work like the rest of us to make pleasant banter?" Elizabeth had asked, feeling rather upset at his retreat from their company. "Is he so proud?"

"Perhaps, but don't you think he has a right to be? I would not wish Darcy's responsibilities, duties, and past trials on anyone."

Elizabeth's eyes had gone wide and she turned her head slightly to glance over at the man in question. She noticed Mr. Bingley turn to Jane, leaving Elizabeth to feel the shame of yesterday upon her again. She had misjudged him – again! Why was she so quick to think the worst of this man? Of course he was proud, and Mr. Bingley was correct - he had a right to be. _And honestly_, Elizabeth had thought, _I know so very little about him or what he has had to face. To lose both his mother and father, and have the responsibility of an estate and a sister thrust upon him, so young! He must be a man of such feeling- Idle chatter must be so grating to his sensibilities!_

The gentle pressure of Jane's hand on her arm brought Elizabeth out of her thoughts and back to the present. "Yes?"

"Are you alright, Lizzy?"

"Yes, Jane. I am only thinking of yesterday afternoon."

"Do you still feel uneasy about how Mr. –" Jane paused to glance around the carriage and, finding Mr. Collins and Mary in almost as deep a conversation as Lydia and Kitty, whispered "- the manner in which he took his leave of us yesterday?"

"Oh Jane, I am so disappointed in myself! After his total honesty and openness with me on the road home, I had promised myself to allow him a chance and instead I jumped to conclusions! I cannot seem to forget his unflattering comment about my person. It seems to cloud my view and I cannot be objective." The hurt in Mr. Darcy's eyes from the previous afternoon came unbidden before her, the only thing that had revealed his stoic demeanor and cool goodbye were all a façade.

"Dearest Lizzy, you are too hard upon yourself. It was very wrong of him to speak of you so but surely you can see that his opinion has changed – he always seems to be gazing at you and he trusted you enough to tell you the truth about _that_ gentleman." She nodded her head towards Elizabeth's pocket for emphasis.

Elizabeth nodded, not willing to totally trust Jane's optimistic opinion.

"And surely, not every young man can be as open and good tempered as Mr. Bingley," Jane continued with a slight smile. "Especially those who feel the difference in status so acutely, as Mr. Darcy must."

"Yes exactly! Therein lays the problem," Elizabeth exclaimed. All the other occupants in the carriage looked at her and she smiled apologetically before turning to Jane and whispering, "I understand that his wealth and connections may put him above us materially, but they do not excuse his rude manners."

Jane smiled at her sister's impatience with the gentleman. "Perhaps he is not aware of how his reserve is perceived by those who do not know him well. Did you not say that he was quite open and his manners easy during the walk home? Maybe it is as simple as Mr. Bingley said and he is just uneasy around others." Now it was Elizabeth's turn to smile at Jane's sweet and trusting reference to Mr. Bingley. "Well as your excellent Mr. Bingley can _do_ no wrong he must not be able to _say_ anything wrong either." Jane playfully pushed against her sister in response to such teasing as Elizabeth continued, "I bow to his superior knowledge of his friend."

At that moment the carriage pulled in front of the Phillips' residence and Elizabeth was again reminded of the note in her pocket. That morning, on learning from Mrs. Bennet and Lydia that Mr. Wickham was one of the officers included in her aunt's invitation, she had decided to confide in her father what she had learned the previous afternoon. Her father responded as he always did – with a wave of his hand and a shrug.

"I know, dearest Papa, that it is not in your nature to worry but I hope that your love for me will be enough to warrant worry and action. I am not comfortable being in company with a man such as this."

"Lizzy, I cannot ban every gentleman who makes you uncomfortable or alarm the town for every scoundrel who crosses the border. It is too late to start championing you all." With that, Mr. Bennet chuckled.

"I find no humor in this Papa! I am not asking you to take action for every gentleman or every scoundrel, I am asking for you to prevent one gentleman from being in the company of your daughters who I have been warned against from a reliable and trustworthy source. Are you so willing to risk your daughter's reputations should he take an interest in one of us? Are you willing to risk Jane's happiness should a scandal occur and Mr. Bingley driven away?"

Mr. Bennet had stared at her for long moment. Then, taking a sheet of paper from his desk, he hastily scribbled something, folded the paper, and sealed it. He handed her the note and mumbled, "Beautiful, headstrong girl."

Now, as Elizabeth mounted the steps to her aunt and uncles, she wished she had read the note instead of trusting her father to impart the correct information. A quick scan of the room helped her locate Mr. Phillips and she handed it to him with a small curtsy and greeting.

"What is this, Lizzy dear."

"It is a note from my father." She had time to say no more before Mr. Collins aggravating voice cut in - "Why I am so much struck by the size and furniture of this apartment that, my dear madam, I might almost have supposed myself in the small summer breakfast parlor at Rosings Park. Rosings Park, you know, is the estate of my condescending patroness Lady Catherine De Bourgh. Her supreme wealth and generosity are known throughout the county, and I dare say, the whole of England. Why the drawings rooms alone are so large and grand that the chimney piece alone cost eight hundred pounds."

In describing to Mrs. Phillips all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, Mr. Collins was happily employed and Elizabeth more so for not having to be the one to entertain him. To the Bennet girls, Mr. Collins' discourse provided no amusement and they impatiently waited for the promised gentleman to appear at the Phillips door. At length, the gentlemen could be heard below and were invited in. The officers of the —shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the present party, but Elizabeth's worry over Mr. Wickham far eclipsed any enjoyment she might have felt on their entrance. When Mr. Wickham was not among the group of officers who proceeded upstairs and into the drawing room, Elizabeth felt a certain amount of relief and upon meeting Jane's eyes it seemed that she felt the same.

Their Uncle Phillips soon followed the gentleman up and seemed jovial enough until he came to stand behind the couch where Elizabeth and Jane had seated themselves and said in a lowered voice, "I have done as your father asked and refused him admittance, apologizing for the retraction of the invitation, but explaining that certain events and circumstances had come to light which made it impossible for me to allow him near my nieces. I am assuming that your father will explain all in good time?"

As this question was directed at Elizabeth who seemed incapable of speech, so glad was she that her father had decided to trust her opinion, Jane responded. "Yes Uncle. I am sure he will."

The rest of the card party passed in a pleasant manner with only a few embarrassing moments courtesy of Mr. Collins and a great many more by Lydia and Kitty as they attempted to steal the attention of every eligible officer in the room. On the way home there was no time to discuss the consequences of her father's and uncle's actions for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia talked incessantly of cards, of the hands of whist she had lost and the hands she had won, and the officers. Mr. Collins in describing the civility of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins in the carriage, had more to say than he could well manage before they arrived back at Longbourn House.

Elizabeth, on entering the house, knocked on the door to her father's study where, finding him within and at his desk, she skipped to his side and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered before leaving and carefully shutting the door behind her. Mr. Bennet was then left to contemplate how easy it was to please his dear Lizzy and how much he enjoyed doing it. He considered other parts of their earlier conversation, in particular her worries about Kitty and Lydia's recklessness, and wondered if maybe, perhaps, he should have more of a hand in their discipline.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: As you can see, all of your lovely reviews convinced me to keep going – complete with a new title and an actual story arc. I am planning for this little piece to have 10 chapters and an epilogue and I plan on posting weekly (we'll see how that goes). Thank you for all of your reviews/favorites/follows and keep them coming! **


	3. Chapter 3

The Means of Uniting Them

Chapter 3

"Oh is there anything like Longbourne in the fall?" cried Elizabeth, swinging her arms in a circle as she and Jane meandered along the side of the house. "_The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown, and all the gay foppery of summer is flown_," she quoted, picking a dark brown leaf from the ground.

"Dear Lizzy! For all your professed love of autumn, you have just as much to say about spring!"

"Yes, and summer and winter, I daresay," Elizabeth replied with a laugh. "But I am never so happy as I am at Longbourne with the fading leaves and crisp air."

"_Apart let me wander, apart let me muse_?" Jane quoted back. Elizabeth twirled the leave between her fingers and tipped her head playfully at her sister. "Well you know my love wandering and musing! It may even surpass my fascination with autumn. You know all my thoughts of late, Jane, but what of you? On what do you muse?"

"Oh Lizzy," Jane sat on the short stone wall lining the path and sighed. "I am almost afraid of my own thoughts."

This turn to seriousness was not what Elizabeth had expected and she quickly reached her sister's side and clasped her hand.

"Dearest! What ever do you mean?"

"It is difficult to explain. It is distressing – but no good has come of me keeping it to myself. Dear Lizzy, for all of your talk of my goodness, it is your liveliness that I envy , how you articulate and express your own thoughts and feelings, for I feel so burdened by my inability – I am afraid that I like Mr. Bingley very well indeed." At this, she looked at her sister with such worry and doubt in her eyes that all thoughts of bringing humor into the situation fled Elizabeth's mind.

"I do understand that you might exercise caution before becoming too attached to another, especially a single, amiable, handsome man in possession of a large fortune, but why are you afraid to like him? Surely you can see that the preference is reciprocated!"

"But Lizzy I do not just like him, I -" here Jane blushed and shook her head, quickly reigning in the emotion that Elizabeth could see was consuming her. "I am only worried that I might prefer Mr. Bingley to every other gentleman I have ever known."

"Oh my dear dear Jane. I knew how it would be! For years, men would throw themselves at you and in a span of a few weeks you would fall hopelessly in love with someone just as good and kind as you!"

Jane's blush deepened at that little speech and she pushed Elizabeth away to stand and walk back towards the house. "I did not say 'love,' Lizzy! On purpose!"

"Ah but you thought it, did you not?" Elizabeth threaded her arm through Jane's. "You will forgive my blatant mockery of our dear Mama but 'Ooooooooh, Mrs. Bingley. How well that sounds!'" Elizabeth's perfect imitation of Mrs. Bennet's pitch and tone caused Jane to laugh heartily and pull her sister nearer.

The two young ladies were then summoned from the shrubbery by the arrival of the very person of whom they had been speaking. Mr. Bingley had come to give their personal invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Hurst, and Miss Bingley had joined him on the visit and the two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend again. They called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention, avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, speaking the barest of civilities to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. Mr. Darcy had stood upon Elizabeth and Jane's entrance, bowed civilly, and removed himself to the window.

The conversation centered on the ball and all the excitement surrounding it. Elizabeth, having accidentally seated herself in a chair far from the window, pondered the best way to engage Mr. Darcy in conversation. She wanted him to know that she had listened and believed his story, and the happenings from the card party the evening before. Suddenly, a slight movement caught her attention and she looked up to see that Mr. Darcy had positioned himself in such a way that he could see her, albeit reflected in the window glass. Their eyes met in the pane and Mr. Darcy looked slightly embarrassed at being caught but did not break her gaze. Slowly, she excused herself from the more frivolous conversation and walked to his side.

"And what do you do so secretly, sir?"

His smile was so brief that she almost didn't see it. "It is no secret. I am admiring the garden."

"Oh? And do you love autumn, with its fallen leaves and crunching grass, as much as I do? Do you not think it the best of seasons? Or were you, perhaps, looking out at our garden and wishing for spring?"

"I believe I enjoy all seasons, though, yes, I have a personal preference for autumn." He clasped his hands behind his back and seemed to hesitate before continuing. "But surely, being such an excellent walker yourself, you would enjoy spring and summer more? I am sure you could find as many lovely qualities to champion in those seasons."

His reply, so similar to Jane's in content yet so dissimilar in address, caused Elizabeth to laugh gaily. "You are entirely correct, Mr. Darcy. My disposition demands that I find pleasant and curious objects wherever I go, which includes all seasons. It means I am never bored."

The smile on her face and light in her eyes were what Mr. Darcy had been waiting for. This was why he had endured the carriage ride over with Miss Bingley's fawning and endless debasement of the neighborhood. This was why he had sat in the Bennet's drawing room, enduring Mrs. Bennet's effusions and ridiculous statements. This was why, when _she_ had entered, he moved so that he could watch her without suspicion. This was why he had not broken eye contact, he had wanted for her to seek him out. And there it was, the beautiful smile that made her glow with some ethereal beauty and the fine eyes that spoke of an intelligent mind. Had it only been a day without her? And yet now he had something new to add to his favorite image of her – an open, delightful laugh. How many times had he heard the tittering that society had deemed appropriate for a young woman? How often had his statements been met with a coquettish speech or an affectedly playful toss of a fan? Yet here, before him, stood a woman who could laugh! A beautiful laugh! And to laugh about the seasons?

That brought Darcy back – of what had they been speaking? The seasons. Right. As his eyes focused again on her face, he noticed Elizabeth's quizzical expression and realized he had made no reply. Mortification battled with reason as he tried to think of an appropriate response. He relied on an old tradition – when you have no words of your own, use someone else's:

"_How quick Time is flying, how keen Fate pursues!_ Am I correct, Miss Bennet?"

Her expression turned from curious to wondering. "Are you a reader of Burns, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed I am. He was a favorite of my mother and she was continually infusing her speech with his phrases and lines. I believe "all the gay foppery" was her particular favorite, followed closely by "blythe, blythe, and merry was she."

Suddenly, Miss Bingley's voice carried across the room. "Pray, what are Miss Eliza and Mr. Darcy mumbling about?" Elizabeth didn't even seem to notice Miss Bingley's sneer as she answered, "We are speaking of the poet, Robert Burns."

"Oh dear Lizzy. You are not quoting 'The Fall of the Leaf' to Mr. Darcy as you did to me this morning, are you? "

At this, Elizabeth looked up at Mr. Darcy – he thought she almost looked shy – and said, "No indeed, _he _was reciting it to me."

Darcy knew that everyone was looking at them and that Miss Bingley would never let him forget it, but to think that Elizabeth also liked Burns and knew the very poem of which he was speaking was too much to keep inside and he let himself smile, a genuine smile directed only at Elizabeth. He watched as his smile affected her – he had noticed it on their walk when he smiled, she seemed confused for a moment and he had wanted to try it again ever since – she looked confused, then pleased, and then embarrassed. He didn't know what any of those reactions meant in the context of a smile but sentiment was better than indifference. Was it not?

Miss Bingley decided she had seen quite enough and rising from her seat, took her brother and the room's other occupants quite by surprise in her obvious desire to quit the place as soon as possible. The others rose with more grace and began to make their farewells, Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, and Lydia loudly exclaiming their anticipation of the ball. Mr. Darcy had turned to bow to Elizabeth, more upset than he cared to admit that their visit was at an end, when she stepped closer and said, quickly and quietly, "Sir, I had meant to tell you in more detail but I want you to know that I talked with my father regarding the information you previously trusted me with and a certain gentleman will not be allowed in the company of myself and my sisters."

Mr. Darcy felt his eyes widen. Of course he had known that she would relay the needed information but to hear her say so implicitly that she believed him, that she trusted his judgment, and had protected herself against Wickham, was extremely gratifying.

"I am glad to hear it, Miss Bennet."

"I am truly grateful for your trust in me, Mr. Darcy."

She looked apprehensive, as though he would regret his decision to confide in her, and as he took her hand to bow over it, he murmured, "_Turn again, thou lovely maiden, one sweet smile on me bestow_." Her surprise, confusion, and, dare he hope, delight in his reference was all he could have hoped for. She smiled and curtsied before turning to Mr. Bingley and his sisters, allowing him to turn and say his goodbyes to the rest of the room.

Never before had Mr. Darcy been able to completely shut out Caroline Bingley's chatter, but on the way back to Netherfield thoughts of Elizabeth drove out every unpleasant thought. He reviewed their brief conversation in minute detail, reveling again and again in her happy, caring spirit. She was so responsive! Never coy, never secretive – always open, always eager. How she delighted him! How she –

"I believe Mr. Darcy is meditating on a pair of fine eyes and has no use for any of us anymore. Oh how delighted Mrs. Bennet will be when hears the news. Why, I'm sure her raptures could be heard for miles." His whole being shuddered as the picture of Mrs. Bennet quickly replaced the one of Elizabeth in his mind. Miss Bingley's and Mrs. Hursts' mocking snickers brought reality even more painfully to the forefront.

"Caroline, mind your tongue. Mrs. Bennet may not be the smartest woman, but she is kind and hospitable."

Miss Bingley harrumphed unhappily as Mr. Bingley turned to his friend. "My apologies, Darce," he said in a lower tone. "Caroline knows as well as I do that you have no serious intentions towards any of the Bennet girls. I, however, am glad that you found someone in the neighborhood who you can speak to with ease."

All happy thoughts and remembrances ruined, Darcy turned back to the carriage window and noted the clouds gathering across the field. _How fitting_, he thought, _that nature should now begin to reflect my mood. What a romantic?! What were you thinking? What does it matter if Elizabeth Bennet reads Burns? Or has an enchanting laugh? She can only, and always, be Elizabeth Bennet, daughter of a country gentleman with little means and a mother with connections in trade – close connections in trade. Even Bingley understands that I can have no intentions towards Elizabeth! _

When they reached Netherfield, Darcy sprang from the carriage, made his excuses to his host, and hurried to his chamber. He was enchanted - that was the only explanation - for was she not enchanting? He was captivated, for was she not captivating? He had to find some middle ground. _Friendship_. The word flit across his mind. How could he only be her friend when thoughts of her consumed him? But he had to have something - he could not be _nothing_ to her. Friendship it would have to be. He could let himself be that to her. Couldn't he? Of course, he could. He would be a friend to Elizabeth.

Exhausted, he collapsed into the chair by the fireplace and picked up the small bound volume lying on the nearby table. The bookmark, embroidered by Georgiana, still held open the poem he had been reading from the night before:

"Thee, sweet maid, have I offended?

My offence is loving thee;

Can'st thou wreck his peace for ever,

What for thine would gladly die?

While the life beats in my bosom,

Thou shalt mix in ilka throe:

Turn again, thou lovely maiden,

One sweet smile on me bestow."

Late that night, as Mrs. Bennet was reviewing the day's accomplishments as she fell asleep – a habit perfected over the years – her thoughts rested upon one odd moment. Suddenly, she sat up in bed, clutching the counterpane to her chest and remembering the adoring gaze Mr. Darcy had bestowed on her Lizzy. What a smile! What a turn of events! And what a clever girl her Lizzy was! For a few moments, Mrs. Bennet's thoughtful raptures were unprecedented – _Ten thousand a year! Oh my dear clever girl! The carriages! The pin money! _– until she remembered Mr. Collins. Had she not redirected his attention to Elizabeth after he had first claimed Jane as his bride? Oh this would not do! Lizzy could NOT marry Mr. Collins if Mr. Darcy was at all interested, which, from the look on his face as he had gazed at her daughter, he was. Mr. Collins would certainly drive Mr. Darcy away with his bobbing and chatter. She knew it couldn't be resolved in a moment, but perhaps a conversation with Mr. Collins was in order. Mary really would do quite nicely for the clergyman. She was devout and accomplished, if a little plain, but what could not be hidden by curls and lace? That is what she would do! A few dropped hints and a little pushing – _Oh my dear Mr. Collins, I have been thinking ever so much on your visit with us and how fortunate you are in the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. However, I was thinking how well my dear daughter Mary would suit you and your parsonage. I know you have quite made up your mind about Lizzy but I daresay that Mary is her equal in – _Well, Mrs. Bennet wasn't quite she what Mary was equal to Lizzy in, but she was sure she would figure it out by the morning. Yes that's what she would do. Three daughters married! Oh how wonderful things could turn out in just a day!

References

John Burns: "The Fall of the Leaf" (1788), "Blythe Was She" (1787), and "Thou Fair Eliza" (1791).


	4. Chapter 4

The Means of Uniting Them

Chapter 4

Mary Bennet, for all her sermons and morals, was a still a young woman. She was well aware of the differences between herself and her sisters – she had none of Jane's goodness or Lizzy's vivacity, for which she was sometimes jealous, but she also had none of Kitty's senselessness or Lydia's outright disgracefulness, for which she was grateful. Upon meeting Mr. Collins, Mary had been reminded of her long held belief that she was meant to be the wife of a clergyman. Her own personal delight in the Scriptures and her strong faith made her the perfect candidate it would seem and for all of Mr. Collin's annoying habits he was not mean or vicious and he would inherit the estate.

Unhappy was Mary when Mr. Collins' attention was bestowed first on Jane and then on Lizzy. For days now, _she_ had listened intently to his conversation. _She_ had engaged him on topics that would interest him. _She _would have accepted, if not gladly at least positively, his attentions – but there was nothing for it because once her mother set her mind on something, there was no stopping her.

From the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented any of the household from leaving and all were very much in company with one another. On the third day of rain, Mrs. Bennet was once again complaining over the state of the weather and how the shoe-roses would have to be got by proxy. Her loud ramblings were grating on everyone's nerves and Elizabeth's spirits were so low on this occasion that, though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help creating some entertainment. She asked him whether he had accepted Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if he had, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement. Upon his reply, she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to dance.

"I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you," said he, "that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honored with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening. I take this particular opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Mary, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her."

Every eye in the room now turned to Mary, and she knew her own shock was clear upon her face. What could he mean? Surely he had misspoke!

"I - I would be honored, Mr. Collins."

Several minutes passed before the surprising turn of events were forgotten by the others but Mary continued to contemplate it throughout the day. It now struck her that Mr. Collins had been more attentive to her - asking her opinions, sitting by her at meals, recommending books – over the last few days. She wondered if she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage. The idea soon reached conviction as she continued to recollect their interactions since the day the Bingleys had delivered the invitation to the ball. These thoughts were also compounded by her mother's frequent references to Mr. Collin's inheritance in her presence and it was not long before Mrs. Bennet gave Mary to understand that the probability of their marriage was extremely agreeable to her.

This significantly lifted her spirits and she spent the rest of the time till the ball in happy anticipation. Her sisters, however, were not so pleasant. Elizabeth especially felt the loss of her daily walks and nothing less than a dance on Tuesday could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to the household.

Till Elizabeth entered the ballroom, she could not articulate her feelings. The certainty of them now as she met a certain gentleman's eye across the room shocked her. The rain preceding the much anticipated event had provided time for reflection – she had concluded the Mr. Darcy was an enigma and it was better for her own peace of mind that she leave it at that. She was sure he would spend the holiday season with his sister and family and then, unless he visited Mr. Bingley again, they would probably never meet again. Yes, yes he was a friend of Mr. Bingley and if Jane became Mrs. Bingley they might be thrown together at the wedding but surely visits to the married couple wouldn't coincide unless they planned them too. Despite her resolve to waste no more time on figuring out Mr. Darcy, she had dressed with more than usual care. Her dark hair was swept up becomingly with a few curls around her face and one long ringlet that rested elegantly against her neck. The white satin ribbon woven throughout echoed the trim on her gown and she was inordinately pleased with the way each piece seemed to shine and reflect the light. She was not as beautiful as Jane – as her mother made sure to tell her so again only that evening – but she was pleased and that was enough.

Now looking into the deep blue eyes of Mr. Darcy, she realized that her former resolve and her belief that she only wanted to look well because of the occasion was all for naught. He really was the most handsome man she had ever seen and he looked uncommonly so in an embroidered waistcoat, dark green coat, and crisp breeches. She blushed as she began to comprehend how much she had missed him – his intelligent conversation and brief smiles – and how she wanted to know him better; she wanted to be his friend. She hoped the evening afforded them some time to spend in each other's company.

At least she didn't seem to be alone in her desire for Mr. Darcy had yet to remove his eyes from her person and was at that moment making his way over to her. He bowed graciously.

"Miss Bennet."

"Mr. Darcy."

He hesitated.

"May I say…. You… Miss Bennet, please allow me to say how well you look this evening and I would be honored if you would dance the first set with me."

This last portion seemed to come out in a rush and it caused Elizabeth to smile archly.

"I would be delighted, Mr. Darcy, and thank you for the compliment."

To Elizabeth, the smile that Mr. Darcy gave following her statement seemed to overwhelm her and the intensity of his gaze caused her to look down and then around for another topic of conversation. She saw Charlotte Lucas in the corner. Mr. Darcy looked to where her gaze had turned.

"Ah, Miss Lucas. May I escort you to your friend Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth was certainly surprised by his gallantry but she took his extended arm and gave him a playful smile.

"I am glad to see the open and charming gentleman this evening instead of the severe Mr. Darcy."

"Severe, madam?"

"Oh come now, Mr. Darcy. You must know that you are generally unapproachable and intimidating, especially in a setting with so many people!"

"That is true, but I hope you, and," he hastened to add, "others who truly know me find me neither unapproachable nor intimidating."

"Ah but I have an advantage do I not? Now that I know you are a reader of Burns I know that beneath your severe – yes severe – and taciturn exterior you are really a romantic!"

At this he turned to the lovely vision on his arm and gave a small chuckle. He could think of no reply so he simply took her to Miss Lucas' side, bowed to both of them, and said, "Miss Bennet, I will collect you for our dance when the music begins."

"I look forward to it Mr. Darcy."

He turned and walked away happy with his performance. He had been gentlemanlike and asked her for a dance but had not done anything to raise expectations that could never be fulfilled. Despite her glorious eyes, delightful face, pleasing figure, and lovely voice, he had been simply a friend. At that moment, he passed Mrs. Bennet who was speaking quite loudly to some other matron – "Oh yes, don't you see how he dotes on her. Of course I always knew my Jane would save her family. Her beauty could not be wasted on someone poor and insignificant" – and he was even more gratified; yes he had made the right decision.

When the dancing commenced, Darcy approached Elizabeth and, taking her hand, led her to the set. Both read the astonishment of such an occurrence on the faces of their neighbors and Elizabeth was reminded that, though she might know that he could be amiable, the general neighborhood had no reason to think Mr. Darcy anything other than the same proud and condescending gentleman from the assembly in October. Oh how much her opinion had changed over the last week! She looked up at her partner, again reminded of how well he looked and glad to find him a fine dancer, and decided that if he would not start the conversation she would.

She made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with—"It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.

"Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent."

"Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?"

"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."

They were separated by the dance and she saw his face crinkle with amusement – that was not enough. She wanted a smile. When they came back together he questioned, "Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?"

"Both," replied Elizabeth archly; "for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb."

He smiled indulgently at her. "I do have a topic that I would like to discuss with you, Miss Bennet, but I am afraid it would not be conducive to dancing."

"Come Mr. Darcy, we are friends are we not?"

A sense of unease came over him but he decided to deal with whatever that emotion was later. "Indeed," he answered.

"Then we might canvas a number of topics during this dance. Let us not be confined by the convention to only speak about the weather and perhaps we may, indeed, amaze the whole room with our discourse."

Her smile was encouraging and so Darcy, when the dance had once again brought them together, spoke: "I was able to make some enquiries in Meryton about a certain… acquaintance of ours over the last few days." He seemed hesitant and Elizabeth nodded to show she understood. Darcy continued, "I discovered that he has already run up numerous debts, both with merchants and fellow officers. I paid a visit to Colonel Foster and told him of my findings, encouraging him to make his own enquiries and act accordingly. I have every hope that soon we will soon see no more of him and he will be a danger to no one."

"You have gone to a lot of trouble, Mr. Darcy."

"My conscience would not have been satisfied until I had done my duty and protected the neighborhood, and others I may never know, from his treachery."

"You continue to astound me, Mr. Darcy."

"May I be so bold as to ask for an explanation?"

His words and tone implied that he was teasing, but something in his eyes made Elizabeth decide to tell him the truth.

"Until your disclosure last week, I was very firm in my belief that you were a very proud and disagreeable man, Mr. Darcy." She looked up at him, embarrassment tinting her cheeks. "I had the misfortune to overhear a conversation between you and another person that set the foundation for what I thought was immovable dislike. I must ask forgiveness now, Mr. Darcy, for thinking so harshly of you."

"You disliked me?"

A myriad of emotions played across his face, but Elizabeth wouldn't back down now. "Very strongly, I am afraid to say. You did not portray yourself to the best advantage your first few weeks in Hertfordshire."

The dance ended and he grasped her hand to lead her back to the corner where Miss Lucas stood. Elizabeth took the opportunity to gently squeeze his fingers – the gesture made him look down at her.

"Do you forgive me?" she asked tentatively.

"Miss Bennet, I cannot accept an apology for something which seems to me like my own fault."

"You do know that I am glad to be mistaken!" His strong hold on her hand – and, what was that look? Dejection? – made her add: "I am very glad to have you as my friend, Mr. Darcy."

There it was again! She considered him a friend! Now he knew why it had bothered him – he did not want to be her friend! He wanted all of her – how dangerous to want more. Another stanza of the poem that so reminded him of Elizabeth came to his thoughts unbidden:

_Turn again, thou fair Eliza! _

_If to love thy heart denies_

_Oh in pity hide the sentence_

_Under friendship's kind disguise._

But this wasn't kind – this was terrifying, absurd, wonderful, horrifying, unthinkable – friendship was not enough.

Her sweet face, uncertain of his response to her revelation, brought him out of the storm of emotions raging through him.

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours."

"And you forgive me?"

"I could do no less, Miss Bennet."

He smiled gently, sadly at her, bowed to Miss Lucas, and walked away.

"What have you done to poor Mr. Darcy!" Charlotte Lucas whispered as he walked back across the room.

"I told him I disliked him up until last week."

"What on earth possessed you to be so honest?"

"I like him. He is an honorable man and I felt dishonorable by not telling him how badly I thought of him. I am quite ashamed of my self – and his only fault was not finding me handsome enough to dance with!" Elizabeth huffed and looked around the room hoping to see him and know that he was not offended by her words, but he it seemed he had left the ballroom.

"Well Lizzy, this is quite extraordinary. You claiming misjudgment – why I never thought to see such an occurrence."

"Oh Charlotte!"

"No indeed. My dearest friend, I am glad to see your self-reflection. It is not always good to be sure of ourselves."

"You are quite right, although I do wish now that I had not been so honest at the end of our dance. I am still not sure if he forgave me and there was no time for me to press the issue."

"I am sure there will be another opportunity." At this, Charlotte pat her friend's hand supportively and smiled as both girls were claimed by officers for the next dance.

After the fourth set, Elizabeth sought her eldest sister. Jane met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was satisfied with the evening. Elizabeth instantly read her feelings, and at that moment confusion over Mr. Darcy and her unhappiness with the conclusion of their conversation, gave way before the hope of Jane's being in the fairest way for happiness.

"I do not need to ask how you find your evening, my dear Jane. You are simply glowing."

"I am having the most delightful evening!" Elizabeth listened to the happy, though modest, hopes which Jane entertained of Mr. Bingley's regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew to find Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last partner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them, and told her with great exultation that he had just been so fortunate as to make a most important discovery. "I have found out," said he, "by a singular accident, that Mr. Darcy, who we met with in Meryton, is the nephew of my patroness. I happened to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning to our hosts the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him. My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well eight days ago."

Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr. Darcy would not wish to be troubled at the moment by such a detail as his aunt's health. Mr. Darcy had given no inclination that he wished to further his acquaintance with Mr. Collins and if he should, Mr. Darcy would initiate it as the superior in consequence. Mr. Collins listened to her with the determined air of following his own inclination, and, when she ceased speaking, replied thus: "Cousin Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world in your excellent judgment in all matters within the scope of your understanding; but permit me to say, that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom—provided that a proper humility of behavior is at the same time maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. "

And with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, whose reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words "apology," "Hunsford," and "Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy seemed to grow more stern throughout his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way.

Elizabeth was mortified but not wishing to spend time lamenting her cousin's presumptuous and annoying behavior, she turned her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley. Oh what a happy situation! She envisioned them settled in that very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could bestow, and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavoring even to like Bingley's two sisters. Her mother's thoughts she plainly saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to venture near her, lest she hear too much.

When they sat down to supper, therefore, she considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them within one of each other and deeply was she vexed to find that her mother was talking to Lady Lucas freely, openly, and of nothing else but her expectation that Jane would soon be married to Mr. Bingley. It was an animating subject and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, were the first points; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men.

In vain did Elizabeth endeavor to check the rapidity of her mother's words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. However, when he was made known to Mrs. Bennet, she was silenced, but only for a moment. "Oh dear, I did not realize he was so near. But surely, he is just as happy as we are for his friend. What a fine match it will be! And don't think I didn't see you dancing with him, Lizzy. But during the dance you looked so serious! Men do not want a woman who is always somber, dear. You must be livelier the next time he asks you to dance."

To this, Elizabeth could make no reply but glanced quickly at Mr. Darcy to find him staring determinedly down at his plate. She wondered how this evening could be any worse.

She did not have to wonder very long for, in quick succession, each of her sisters added to the family disgrace – Mary played for the entire company and her performance was weak and affected, Kitty giggled mercilessly while her sister played and called it "very ill indeed," and Lydia spilled at least three glasses of wine onto the table and furniture with her exuberance. To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success.

Mr. Darcy's thinking was, unfortunately, very similar and no sooner had the idea been thought then it was judged sound, necessary, and decided upon. He had to leave Netherfield. His own feelings were obviously unacceptable and the only way to rid himself of them was to rid himself of _her_. Bingley already planned to travel to London the next day; he would go with him. It only took 10 minutes for him to reach his room, ring for his valet, explain that he had decided to join Bingley on the morrow, ask for his things to be packed, appear back in the ballroom, and inform Bingley of his plans.

What a relief to know he would be gone by the morning!

His complete certainty in his plan lasted only until he saw Elizabeth skipping down the set with someone else. She was all that was lovely.

But he had to go – there was no alternative. She was the stuff of dreams but everything connected with her was revolting. He watched as she danced each set with spirit and then it was the last dance and she moved to sit. She didn't have a partner. Again, his decision was made in a moment – he had to hold her hand one last time. He had to have happy memories to take with him. He strode to her, bowed to her and her sister Mary, and asked Elizabeth if she would dance the last with him.

Her look of surprise and pleasure was charming and he matched it when she accepted. Again, he led her on to the dance floor but the energy was different. He was overwhelmed by her closeness and the knowledge that this was the last time he would see her. She couldn't fathom why he would ask her to dance again and was unsure of why she was so inordinately pleased by his request. They danced in silence, though to each the other's eyes spoke volumes, until Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room. On perceiving Mr. Darcy, he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment him on his dancing and his partner. "I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event takes place. What congratulations will then flow in! Let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching conversation of that young lady." The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir William's allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley and Jane, who were also dancing together.

This interruption seemed to bring Mr. Darcy out of his silence because he asked sharply, "Is there a general assumption in the neighborhood of a forthcoming engagement between them?"

Elizabeth had no need to ask of whom he was speaking. "Though there may be such an assumption in the neighborhood, there exists no such _assumption_ on my sister's part. Only hope."

"Miss Bennet welcomes my friend's attention then?"

"Why yes. I would think it rather obvious." They were dancing far enough away from the couple in question that she had no fear of them overhearing.

"Perhaps to you who have known her all your life but to others she might seem like a woman whose heart is not easily touched."

"Jane is nothing if not sincere!

"I bow to your superior knowledge of your sister."

Something seemed familiar about his turn of phrase but Elizabeth couldn't place it. "I am afraid you have not forgiven me, Mr. Darcy."

He looked confused for a moment but then squeezed her hand gently as they weaved through the other couples. "Please do not worry unnecessarily, Miss Elizabeth. It is forgotten."

She was satisfied. He wouldn't say it if he felt differently. The dance ended and he escorted her to the rest of the Bennets.

"Thank you for the dance, Mr. Darcy." He bowed and turned to leave, but she couldn't let him go just yet. "No Burns this evening, Mr. Darcy?"

He seemed to ponder a moment and then looked at her squarely, sadly, and quoted, "_From thee, Eliza, I must go, and from my native shore; the cruel fates between us throw a boundless ocean's roar_."

Elizabeth looked rather shocked for a moment before her mother's voice made her wince with embarrassment – "Why Mr. Darcy, what a sad little verse. Can you think of nothing more cheerful?"

"Not at present, madam." With that, he bowed and left, leaving Mrs. Bennet to wonder what sort of man he was and if his interest in Elizabeth was such a good thing after all while Elizabeth was desperately trying to remember the rest of the poem, she was sure there was more to it than just a farewell.

The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart, and, by a maneuver of Mrs. Bennet, had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how heartily they were wished away by some of the family. When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn, and addressed herself especially to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happy he would make them by eating a family dinner with them at any time, without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure, and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her, after his and Mr. Darcy's return from London.

Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under the delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four months. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins, she thought with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. Mary was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the man and the match were quite good enough for her, the worth of each was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.

Elizabeth heard of Mr. Darcy's imminent departure with sadness and confusion, wanting more than ever to be at home in her own bed to sort out her feelings. The Bennets arrived home without any delay and within half an hour the whole house was asleep – all, that is, except Elizabeth who had immediately pulled her book of Burns' poetry from the stack by the window and found the verses she was looking for. Her inexplicable sadness on reading them was almost too much to bear. If this was the poem he had meant to refer to, Mr. Darcy that is, then he admired her, adored her. Yet, he was saying farewell. The reasons for leaving were glaring obvious – her families indiscretions and her own insignificance – and she couldn't blame him for wanting nothing more to do with her. But then why send her to this poem? Why say, in another's words, that his heart and soul belonged to her? How cruel! Suddenly, her sadness turned to disappointment and a small portion to anger. How cowardly to let another man say his goodbyes! Did he not say they were friends? Let him leave. He meant nothing to her. For was not their acquaintance of only two months? Yes, he would be gone and she would never see him again – it was all for the best.

With the belief that her heart was not in danger and the decision to put him out of her mind for good, Elizabeth fell into a restless sleep, her dreams filled with a handsome face with intense blue eyes who could only speak in lines from Burns.

* * *

References

Robert Burns, "Thou Fair Eliza" (1791)

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (1813) – Can you tell which portions came directly from the book? It's amazing what a shift in perspective can do!

Robert Burns, "Farewell Eliza" (1786)

_From thee, Eliza, I must go, _

_And from my native shore;_

_The cruel fates between us throw_

_A boundless ocean's roar:_

_But boundless oceans roaring wide,_

_Between my love and me,_

_They never, never can divide_

_My heart and soul from thee_

_Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,_

_The maid that I adore!_

_A boding voice is in mine ear, _

_We part to meet no more!_

_But the latest throb that leaves my heart,_

_While death stands victor by, -_

_That throb, Eliza, is they part_

_And thine that latest sigh!_


	5. Chapter 5

The Means of Uniting Them

Chapter 5

The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn - Mr. Collins made his declaration. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the observances which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding Mrs. Bennet, and some of the younger girls together, soon after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words: "May I hope, madam, for the honor of a private audience with your fair daughter Mary in the course of this morning?" Before Mary had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs. Bennet answered instantly, "Oh dear!—yes—certainly. I am sure Mary will be very happy—I am sure she can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs." And, gathering her work, she hastened away, leaving Mary in quite a state of embarrassment.

As soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began. "My dear Miss Mary, you can hardly doubt the purpose of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost –" here he seemed to hesitate for a moment - "as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying—and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did." The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, running away with his feelings, made Mary very near laughing, but before any sound could come out of her mouth, he continued: "My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced that it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly, which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honor of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford that she said, 'Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to observe that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe and your piety and gentleness, I think, must be acceptable to her. It remains to be told why my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighborhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honored father, I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place—which, however, may not be for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, since I am well aware that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

Mary's emotions, on his declaration, were so wide of a range – from anger at his cavalier mention of her father's death, to annoyance at his deference to Lady Catherine, to pleasure at his choice of her – that for a few moments she sat in silence and thought carefully on the decision. That she would accept him was not in question, but Mary did think on _how_ she would accept him. Finally, she raised her eyes to Mr. Collins and answered him – "Thank you for your patience, Mr. Collins. I have my answer ready but I do have a question for you, if you would not think it impertinent."

"My dear Cousin, I would be honored to answer any question of yours if it helps to build confidence in your decision to accept me."

Mary bristled at his assumption, but decided that other things were more important. "How did Christ say he loved the church, Mr. Collins – like a patroness or like a bride?"

"Oh a bride, certainly. My dear Mary, your knowledge of the scriptures only furthers my belief – "

Mary raised her hand to stop what she was sure would be an unnecessary and unwanted compliment. "And what do the scriptures say about how a husband should treat his wife?"

"He should leave his father and mother and cleave to her. She should be his most prized treasure – I do hope, Mary, that you have no worries on that score. As both of my parents are, unfortunately, no longer on this earth, you shall be the most important to me, second only to God."

"Indeed, that is my worry, Mr. Collins. In your short time here, you have talked more of Lady Catherine de Bourgh than any other subject and I worry that I this might affect our mutual felicity in marriage."

"My situation in life is entirely dependent upon the hallowed de Bourghs and you cannot understand, till you are in her presence yourself, how much her Ladyship demands respect and adoration."

"I do understand your loyalty to her, sir, but I am worried as to its extent. Does Christ love the church as a clergyman loves his patroness?"

Here, Mr. Collins seemed confused and for a few moments stood and paced. After a few turns on the carpet, during which Mary sat with her hands primly in her lap and looked at him calculatingly, he came and took the seat next to her. He gestured to her hands – "May I?"

At her nod, Mr. Collins gathered Mary's hands in his and looked at her so sincerely that she was truly touched. "My dear Mary, for I flatter myself that my suit is not unpleasant to you and I will soon always call you such, when you become my wife you will be mistress of my home and heart. Though I may show deference to her Ladyship – for indeed, that is her right – you will always be foremost, as our Lord commands."

Mary smiled. "Then yes, Mr. Collins, I accept your proposal."

Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his successful love, for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule to watch for the end of the conference, entered the breakfast-room and congratulated both them both in warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then proceeded to Mr. Bennet's study to solicit his consent.

"Oh my dear dear child," Mrs. Bennet began not a moment after Mr. Collins had quit the room. "How happy you have made me! A daughter married! And before both her older sisters! Oh bless me! We are saved! My dearest child, what a happy day!'

Mary received these statements with pleasure but felt even more keenly the difference from most of her mother's feelings towards herself. However, the small hurt that the sudden and situational raptures of her mother inflicted were soon soothed by the sincere joy expressed by Jane and Elizabeth. They both asked if she was happy to which she could honestly reply that she was – to be mistress of her own home was a very calming thought indeed and she was made even more happy by the thought that she was the one who had saved her family and would be mistress of Longbourn at some point in her life.

Mr. Bennet, though surprised at the turn of events, gave his consent and blessing and the rest of the day was spent in happy contemplation of a wedding in late January.

The next morning was spent likewise until a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet. It came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand and Elizabeth saw her sister's countenance change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Jane recollected herself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation, but Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which was only satisfied when a glance from Jane invited her to follow her upstairs.

When they had gained their own room, Jane, taking out the letter, said: "This is from Caroline Bingley and I am very surprised by its contents. The whole party will have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town—and without any intention of coming back again."

She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. The next was in these words: "I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that." To these pretentious expressions Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it really to lament. It was not to be supposed that their absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley's being there.

"It is unlucky," said she, after a short pause, "that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country. But surely Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by them."

"Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you: 'When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter. I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd—but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you." "It is evident by this," added Jane, "that he comes back no more this winter."

"It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not want him to."

"But you do not know all. I will read you the passage which particularly hurts me: 'Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these circumstances to favor an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?" "What do you think of this sentence, my dear Lizzy?" said Jane as she finished it. "Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; that she is perfectly convinced of her brother's indifference and kindly means to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?"

"Yes, there can!" cried Elizabeth, "for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?"

"Most willingly."

"Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you."

Jane shook her head.

"Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. You cannot imagine that a man who seemed very much in love with you on Tuesday could now, on Thursday, be in love with someone else instead!"

"If we thought alike of Miss Bingley," replied Jane, "your representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is that she is deceiving herself."

"That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be deceived, by all means. You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer."

Elizabeth continued to forcefully voice her assurance and, as Jane's temper was not desponding, she was gradually led to hope that Bingley would return to Netherfield and answer every wish of her heart.

They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the family and, after lamenting it at some length, their mother remembered the consolation of Mary's nuptials and that Mr. Bingley was surely a man of his word – by the end of the discussion she was quite sure he would soon be back again and dining at Longbourn.

Mrs. Bennet spent the next few days calling on all of the neighbors, glorying in Mary's betrothal and lamenting the loss of the Bingley sisters, but not even her exuberant speeches could compete with the other gossip that had spread throughout Meryton – Mr. Wickham was under house arrest! Apparently the gentleman, who had seemed so amiable and open on first acquaintance, was actually a gambler and rake of the worst kind! His exploits were now known to his commanding officer, Colonel Foster, and he was placed under surveillance until his punishment should be determined. The Phillips, who had received some condemnation for refusing him admittance to their card party, were now commended as wise and discerning. Mr. Bennet, who was judged nonsensical and over-bearing, was now spoken of as a protective father. There were whispers of indiscretions with at least one daughter of a local merchant and now all those who had been overjoyed to see the regiment in Meryton were wary of the officers and their behavior.

When Mrs. Bennet returned from her outing and shared the news, Elizabeth was entirely sensible of the fact that all these events had been set in motion by Mr. Darcy and more than once was she glad that he had confided in her and chosen to take action against Mr. Wickham. Having only been in company with the gentleman for a quarter of an hour before being told of his true character, Elizabeth pondered whether she would have recognized his deceitfulness on her own. Though her confidence in her judgment was sound, she feared that with her first impression of Mr. Darcy - arrogant and condescending – compared to that of Mr. Wickham – charming and good-natured – she might have erred. Even in those few minutes she had decided that Mr. Wickham was all goodness and Mr. Darcy all pride. How wrong she could have been! How thankful she was to have not been taken in, for it seemed that one had all the goodness and the other all the appearance of it. _Not all the goodness_, her heart reminded her. His callous and cowardly farewell – for that was how she now determined it – was enough for her to remember that, in spite of his intelligent mind and handsome face, he was a man who viewed himself above the company and was much too brooding.

Therefore, when Jane was brushing out Elizabeth's hair later that night and asked if she wished for Mr. Darcy to return with Mr. Bingley ("if he returns," she whispered), Elizabeth could answer quite honestly – "No dearest one. I am quite determined that, though I admire him greatly, we would not suit. And besides," she added, "you know very well that I shall marry only for the deepest of loves. So I will end an old maid and to teach your ten children (and I have decided they shall all have Mr. Bingley's blonde curls and your gentle blue eyes) to play their instruments and embroider cushions very ill!"

"Lizzy!" was Jane's amused reply as she squeezed her sister's shoulders and finished braiding her hair.

"And perhaps," continued Elizabeth, now turning to face her sister, "when you are quite settled with Mr. Bingley, you can throw me into the path of other rich men!"

Though she jested, Elizabeth was quite determined to focus only on her sister's happiness and, in this selfless pursuit, eventually find her own. She was resolved to give no more thought to men in general.

Mr. Darcy was finding it much more difficult to stick to his similar, though more particular, resolution – to forget Elizabeth Bennet. It had been two days since he had danced with her, heard her voice, touched her gloved hand, and it felt like months. It was all Bingley's fault, or more Miss Bingley's fault. Earlier that evening, Bingley had burst into his study unannounced and spoken with such force and volume that Darcy was quite worried for his friend.

"Darcy! You will not believe what Caroline and Louisa have done now. I can't even begin to describe it for it truly stirs such anger in me that I hardly know what to do with myself. I couldn't even speak to them I just turned around and walked out of the room – how rude of me! – and then left and knew I had to talk to you. For you are always rational and logical and would never influence me for your own benefit! What is wrong with my sisters? Are you sure I cannot just disown them? I would happily never see them again." And with that, he huffed and fell into one of the chairs stationed across from Darcy's desk.

Without answering – indeed, how was he supposed to respond to such a speech – Darcy stood up and made his way over to the cabinet where he kept his liquor and glasses. He poured two drinks, handed a glass to Bingley, and commanded, "Start from the beginning."

"Yes, yes, you are quite right. The beginning. I had finished my meetings this morning and returned to Grosvenor Street for luncheon and to answer some correspondence. I was very happy with how quickly everything was coming together and had determined that I should be able to return to Hertfordshire on Saturday. Then, Caroline, Louisa, and Hurst appeared in the house! With all their belongings!"

"Well it is Hurst's house, Charles. They had a right to be there."

"No, no, no. They were talking about how dreadful Netherfield was without me and how they just couldn't bear to be in the country this winter and were quite determined never to go back! That the society was so unvarying and distasteful and how could I possibly have anything good to say about the neighborhood."

"I see."

Bingley didn't even seem to notice his friend's comment as he continued his tale – "So then, we were all sitting down to tea and the continued degradation of Netherfield and its surroundings was truly upsetting me so I asked them to please find another topic for there was no way I was giving up the house – why I signed a year's lease! – and then, Darcy you will not believe what they said next. They began to disparage my dearest angel! They tried to convince me, for above a half hour, how she is mercenary and below me in status, and that I must find someone with wealth, and it did not matter to them that she is beautiful and kind and the sweetest creature God has ever created! No! She was not a proper choice for my wife but, by God, they have no control over me and I will marry her if I wish! I love her! What more could a man ask for than gentle woman to love and be loved by in return? I was so angry that I stormed out and came here."

For the first time, Bingley seemed to notice his surroundings and the mounds of paperwork on his friend's desk.

"Are you working?"

"I was trying to."

"Oh Darce, I am sorry. I was not thinking clearly. I shouldn't have bothered you."

Darcy allowed a small smirk on his face as he considered telling Bingley the real reason he hadn't been able to concentrate. Instead, he focused on the issue at hand. "So what are you going to do about your sisters? You are right, they do not have any control over you – you are your own man – but you can't admonish them for their opinions."

"Yes, you are right. I listened to their complaints and worries but I can make my own decision. I choose Jane." He took a gulp from his glass and then looked up at Darcy. "Don't I?"

"Charles, I would in no way wish to influence you. However, I would caution you. You can be hasty and impetuous. Though their delivery may not have been the most conducive to your peace of mind, your sisters do have a point. You are just now making your way and, though Miss Bennet is a gentleman's daughter, you could find someone with a larger dowry and better connections to further your place in society."

"But I love her!"

Darcy must have looked skeptical because Charles finished his drink and slammed the glass on the desk as he shouted, "More than anything!"

"Then do what you must."

"What do you think I have been doing all day? I have met with my solicitor to draw up a settlement and approved the sale of some investments so I will have a larger capital upon our marriage. I also retrieved my mother's pearl earrings as a present for when…" Thinking of Jane wearing his mother's jewelry must have softened some of his anger, and with it his confidence, for he suddenly slouched in the chair and whispered, "not when,_ if_ she will accept me."

For a few moments, neither of the gentlemen said anything. Both were warring with their own emotions and the depth of longing felt by Darcy and Bingley, for the second and eldest Bennet girls respectively, was matched. Finally, Bingley stood and addressed Darcy, "I had hoped to find encouragement here, not more warnings."

"Of course I will stand by your decision, Charles. You are my friend and if Miss Bennet is your choice than I will stand by her as well. I just want to remind you to take your time, be assured that your affection is returned and that this is truly what you want." Here he stood and offered his hand which Bingley shook.

"Thank you Darcy – and you are sure you won't come back with me on Saturday? Now that it looks like Caroline won't be there to torture me, I could use some company."

"No, I'm afraid not. It's time you handled the estate on your own. Thank you for inviting me back though."

"Of course. I don't think I'll have time to stop in before I leave so I'll see you in the near year."

"Give my regards to the Bennets. Oh and good luck, Bingley."

Bingley had turned and walked towards the door, but looked over his shoulder at Darcy's statement. "Thank you!" His joyous smile was infectious and Darcy couldn't help but smile back at his friend.

Now, much later, Darcy had abandoned his work and let himself feel the full extent of his jealousy towards Bingley. Why wasn't his path as clear? Why couldn't he just make the decision to love Elizabeth and pursue her, as Bingley had with Miss Bennet? This incompetency, Darcy decided, was proof that what he felt was fleeting. If he was truly attached to Elizabeth, there would be no struggle and no difficulty. That was it. He was infatuated, enchanted, and once he had been away from her for long enough, those feelings would go away. There. That was it.

He sighed. For some reason, that decision brought Darcy no peace.


	6. Chapter 6

The Means of Uniting Them

Chapter 6

As scheduled, Mr. Collins left Hertfordshire on Saturday. The pain of separation, however, would be alleviated on his side by preparations for the reception of his bride. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before, wished his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father another letter of thanks.

Though the majority of the Bennet family was happy to see him go, Mrs. Bennet and Mary were quite sure that he could have stayed longer – Mrs. Bennet knew that another week or two would not injure his patroness and would give him more time for her to show off her daughter. Mary was sure that with another week or two under her gentle guidance he would be less officious and not so inclined to babble on, characteristics she was eager to curb in her new fiancé. However, Mr. Collins was not to be persuaded otherwise so on Saturday morning he set off for Hunsford.

The weather continued to grow colder as November turned to December and the loss of warmth outside the house was reflected by the loss of hope within. The Netherfield party had been gone a week, and then two, and nothing was heard of their return. Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. Day after day passed without bringing any other tidings of them other than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of the party coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood. Though Mr. Darcy might be brooding and severe, ten thousand pounds a year made up for any deficiency in character and Mr. Bingley – well – never had she met or more charming and agreeable man! And both of them, she would swear on it, were smitten with her daughters. No, of course they would be back.

Even Elizabeth began to fear, not for Mr. Darcy but for Mr. Bingley, that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane's happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its frequently occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters, assisted by the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London might be too much, she feared, for the strength of his attachment. She thought herself quite happy with the fact that she might never see Mr. Darcy again, although her mother's constant references to his return, as well as the master of Netherfield, did offer a source of contemplation and she wondered when her mother's opinion of Mr. Darcy had become more favorable.

As for Jane, her anxiety under this suspense was more painful than Elizabeth's, but whatever she felt she was desirous of concealing, and the subject was never alluded to between herself and her sister. As no such delicacy restrained their mother, an hour seldom passed in which Mrs. Bennet did not talk of Bingley and Darcy, and express her impatience for their arrival. Jane could only call on every ounce of forbearance to make it through each day.

Exactly two weeks and one day since the ball at Netherfield, and more importantly just when Jane was feeling that all hope really might be lost, the news arrived, by way of the Netherfield housekeeper, that Mr. Bingley had arrived late in the night. Mrs. Bennet's triumphant effusions that morning were heard in every corner of the house and, for once, Elizabeth was inclined to agree with her mother. That, of course, Mr. Bingley had always meant to return and his business must have taken longer than expected was now deemed completely reasonable.

Mrs. Bennet allowed the gentlemen one day to see to the estate but was positive that by the next day they would be sitting in her parlor taking tea. So confident was Mrs. Bennet in this plan and in her belief that both gentlemen had returned, that when Mr. Bingley arrived alone that very afternoon, she was quite speechless for a whole ten seconds. On the gentleman's appearing, Elizabeth noted Jane's slight blush and knew it to be part joy in his return and part embarrassment over the degree of civility with which he was welcomed by their mother.

"Why Mr. Bingley," exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. "We had quite despaired of you! You did say your business in town would only be of a short duration and yet two weeks have come and gone! I do hope that you mean to stay long in the neighborhood, sir."

Mr. Bingley, all politeness, bowed to the ladies, and explained that there were some complications while in town but that he was very happy to be back in Hertfordshire and amongst them.

Satisfied with his reply, Mrs. Bennet offered him a seat next to Jane and began to acquaint him with all that had happened in the neighborhood since his departure. No one in the room, however, not even Jane herself, could deny that Mr. Bingley only had eyes for Miss Bennet.

Slightly disconcerted by his gaze, Jane asked, "And do your sisters not accompany you, Mr. Bingley?"

"Ah… well… no, they do not." He looked slightly uncomfortable at his admission but, upon looking up at Miss Bennet's kind and open countenance continued saying, "Hurst and Louisa remain in London but Caroline has gone to spend the holiday season with our cousins in the north."

"That is disappointing," cried Mrs. Bennet. "We were very much hoping to host all of you for a dinner in the coming week."

"As much as I'm sure they would have enjoyed such an evening," here Mr. Bingley colored at what he knew was quite a blatant lie, "my sisters and I have had a disagreement. However, I am very happy to be spending the season in Hertfordshire and I hope that we will see much of each other."

Mrs. Bennet, on hearing his admission, couldn't decide between being curious about the disagreement or gleeful over his insinuations – it can be assumed that she allowed both to greatly occupy her mind since the next several minutes she left Mr. Bingley to speak to the room's other occupants.

"And how are you, Miss Bennet?" Bingley asked, at last able to truly focus all his attention on his angel.

"I am well, Mr. Bingley. We are glad to have you back in the neighborhood."

"I am equally as glad. And you, Miss Elizabeth? Have you been well?"

"Very well, Mr. Bingley, though I am sorry to hear that there is discord in your family."

"Please do not worry, Miss Elizabeth. It was time that they understand that I am not to be easily influenced against certain decisions about my life and personal happiness."

At that, Elizabeth raised her brow at her sister, but the expression went unnoticed by Jane who was too occupied by Mr. Bingley's nearness to recognize anything else.

"I think it a very good thing to know one's own mind, Mr. Bingley. But, shall you not be lonely without your family and friends?"

"I suppose I shall, but as I said, my sisters could not be persuaded to join me and Darcy was to spend the Christmas season with his sister. "

Mrs. Bennet returned to the conversation upon hearing Mr. Bingley mention his friend. "And how is Mr. Darcy, pray? I would have thought he would join you on your return to the neighborhood."

"He is very well madam, but no. When he made the decision to leave Netherfield with me it was with the understanding that he would remain in town when I returned."

"Ah, I see," replied Mrs. Bennet, very unhappy with this turn of events. She spent several moments again in silence, pondering what Mr. Darcy's absence could possibly mean, so she did not hear the following exchange -

Mr. Bingley, who had turned to speak to Jane, seemed to remember something and so turned back to Elizabeth and said, "Oh and he sends his regards."

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, astonished.

"Yes."

"To me?"

"Well he said to all the Bennets but I am quite sure he meant you." And with that Mr. Bingley again turned to Jane and asked her about the upcoming festivities and the traditions of the neighborhood for the Christmas season.

Elizabeth, however, could not pay attention and barely heard as Jane discussed the Gardiners imminent visit and the Lucas' Twelfth Night party. What did Mr. Bingley mean? Mr. Darcy sent his regards to her? Whatever could that mean? Frustrating man! Her decision to give him no more thought wavered at this development but by the time Mr. Bingley's visit ended, and Mrs. Bennet had secured him for a meal in two days, Elizabeth was again firm in her decision. Mr. Darcy obviously did not mean to come to Hertfordshire any time soon and he was just as confusing as before. No good could come of giving Mr. Bingley's message any more credence than it was due.

That Friday, the anticipated dinner was held at the Bennets and the one who was most anxiously expected, to the credit of his punctuality as a sportsman, was in very good time. When everyone repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take the place by her sister. Mrs. Bennet, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile - it was decided. He placed himself by her. Elizabeth was persuaded that if left wholly to themselves, Jane and Mr. Bingley's happiness would be speedily secured. The meal was followed by cards and tea, and each moment that Mr. Bingley continued to remain in Jane's presence was, to Mrs. Bennet, a relief and, to Elizabeth, a joy. Never had she seen Jane so bright, so confident, so kind, as in the warmth of Mr. Bingley's obvious preference and affection.

The happiness which the dinner provided was only matched by the arrival of Mrs. Bennet's brother and his wife, who came as usual to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman and a great favorite with all her Longbourn nieces. Between the two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a particular regard as they had frequently stayed with her in town during the course of the Gardiner's marriage. The first part of Mrs. Gardiner's business on her arrival was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. Kitty and Lydia especially were enraptured by her descriptions and soon had the whole of the upstairs sitting room in disarray with their determination to makeover each of their gowns in the newest styles.

Once, Mrs. Gardiner had disseminated that information, she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. Mrs. Bennet had many exciting developments to relay – Mary's betrothal, Jane's near one, and what she now considered Elizabeth's disappointment.

"I would not have you think I blame Lizzy at all, she would have got him if she could, but oh I do think she might have scared him away with her impertinence! No man could possibly want her with that sharp tongue! But what is a mother to do! I can only hope that with Jane married to Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy and Lizzy will often be in company and my daughter will learn to curb her wit. However, your coming just at this time is the greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us, of long sleeves." Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth's correspondence with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the conversation to another topic.

When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the subject. "It seems likely to have been a desirable match for you," said she. "I am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man so easily falls in love for a few weeks, and then when duty calls, so easily forgets her."

"My dear aunt," Elizabeth cried, "I thank you for your sentiments but I certainly do not share them! My mother may have conjured up some notion of Mr. Darcy being fond of me but I am quite sure that he felt nothing of the sort and I can assure you that I am quite happy he has gone away. There were moments where I feared he disapproved of our family and would have separated Jane and Mr. Bingley but I am content, in this case, to have been wrong."

"Truly Lizzy? I would have thought you complimented by such a great man's preference."

"Again, dearest aunt – what preference? I did not think well of him. He changed that opinion by being more open about his past. Yes he treated me as a friend and, perhaps, an equal, he danced with me twice, and he reads Robert Burns. I don't see how that can be construed as anything more than an acquaintance or, when pressed, a friendship. There was certainly no preference for my company nor is there disappointment in my own heart now that he is gone." The mentioned heart may have screamed at its owner's blatant lie and begged Elizabeth to be truthful with her aunt, but she would have none of it.

Mrs. Gardiner, having spent her childhood in Derbyshire and knowing of the Darcy family through the proximity of her hometown to the estate, was aware of the vast holdings attributed to the name. She also knew that, though Mrs. Bennet could exaggerate and be rather delusional when it came to the marriage prospects of her daughters, her sister-in-law was usually near the mark. Furthermore, Mrs. Gardiner knew Elizabeth well enough to recognize when her niece had not completely made up her mind about a subject and so used nonchalance as a way to avoid a deeper conversation. This, in and of itself, was intriguing for Mrs. Gardiner and she resolved to let the subject go now in hopes of more information later.

The Gardiners stayed two weeks at Longbourn; and what with Mr. Bingley, the Phillipses, the Lucases, and a few officers who had proved themselves to be gentlemen, there was not a day without a social engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister that they rarely sat down to a family dinner. Christmas came and went with much happiness and cheer all around and the only blight on the otherwise spotless season was that Mr. Bingley had still not proposed. Mrs. Bennet offered plenty of opportunities – conveniently leaving them unchaperoned for short periods of time, ensuring that they sat together at parties – but, still, no offer came. After one such evening, right after Christmas, where Mr. Bingley and Jane were left to their own devices at a party hosted by the Phillipses, Jane was extremely quiet the whole of the way home and Mr. Bingley, while still his amiable self, had seemed more subdued in his goodbyes to the family.

Elizabeth, fearful that they may have quarreled but unsure as to how two such sweet tempered people could have worked themselves up to such an occurrence, gently knocked on her sister's door after she was ready for bed.

"Jane? It's Lizzy – may I come in?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth opened the door to see Jane sitting contemplatively in front of her mirror, brushing her long blonde locks. Elizabeth moved to sit on the end of the bed.

"Do you want to tell me what is troubling you?"

For a moment, Jane said nothing.

"What have we always said about marriage, Lizzy?"

"That only the deepest love would induce us into matrimony," Elizabeth recited.

"Yes."

Another silence.

"And what would you do if you loved someone, more than you ever thought possible, and every moment with them was a gift, but the other people in that person's life would not welcome you?"

"Jane, will you not speak plainly?"

At that, Jane put down the brush and turned to look at her sister with such pain and confusion it compelled Elizabeth to get off the bed and go to kneel by her sister.

"Jane?"

"Mr. Bingley told me tonight that he loves me – he loves me, Lizzy! – but felt that he couldn't declare himself fully without being honest with me about why he was delayed in London."

"I'm sure the reason couldn't be as bad as all this," Elizabeth answered.

"It seems that you were correct, Lizzy, about Miss Bingley's affection, or lack thereof, for me. She left Hertfordshire for the sole purpose of keeping Mr. Bingley in London. It seems that Mr. Bingley and his sisters have had quite a disagreement and I am the cause!"

Elizabeth could think of no reply so she waited for Jane to compose herself and continue. "Mr. Bingley shared that they had, quite forcefully, pointed out our family's unsuitability and tried to dissuade him from returning. He apologized for causing me pain in this revelation but he felt he couldn't in good conscience ask me to become a part of a family that wouldn't welcome me. He stayed in London to persuade them of his strong attachment to me and his determination to pursue me. Mr. Bingley tried to convince them but to no avail. Caroline was sent to their cousins, since she couldn't be welcome at Netherfield, and the Hursts are still in London. He said, again and again, how much he adored me but he knew my kind nature would be deeply hurt to hear of such a rift in the family and he said -"here a small sob escaped Jane's lips as she struggled to control her emotions - "that he would willingly give up his own happiness, which he insists is reliant on me, so that I could find someone else who was not surrounded by those who would influence him against me."

That seemed to be all that she could bear for upon finishing her statement, Jane collapsed into her sister's arms accompanied by such heaving and sobbing as Elizabeth had never seen before. What a shocking tale! To have her suspicions confirmed was slightly gratifying but at such a cost to her sister!

"Dearest Jane, in this I would so much rather I had been wrong about Mr. Bingley's sisters. How despicable!" She pulled her sister's face off of her shoulder and made her to look up. "However hurtful his confession might be, is it not lessened by Mr. Bingley's own actions? He did return, he does love you, and he does value honesty with you, even at the cost of his own happiness – is that not an incredible gift?"

"But Lizzy, how could I let myself be the cause of such a disagreement? It is not he who must give me up, it is I who must give him up so that he can be reunited with his sisters. I am not enough of a compensation for losing one's dear family." She recommenced her sobbing and Elizabeth attempted a different angle.

"Dearest, do you not see? He wants you for his family. He has decided that a new family with you is important to him, above many other considerations, and I will say again – is that not an incredible gift?" This, at least, seemed to quiet Jane but the tears continued until Elizabeth guided her sister to bed and allowed her to cry to sleep.

What a turn of events! Elizabeth was comforted by the fact that, though Jane was obviously and understandably distressed by the news, a few days of consideration would soon have Jane reconciled to the situation and able to offer Mr. Bingley her love in return.

The next few days, however, proved to be much more difficult than Elizabeth had, at first, imagined. Jane's melancholy was overwhelming and nothing Elizabeth could say would persuade her to choose her own and Mr. Bingley's happiness over the opinions of the superior sisters and Jane's own self-sacrificing heart. Heavy snow and ice only made the situation worse as it prevented Mr. Bingley, or any of the neighborhood, from calling. Jane's disheartened spirit convinced her that the weather was a sign and she should send Mr. Bingley back to his sisters.

Mr. Bingley was feeling similarly dejected but viewed the weather as a sign that _he_ should give up Jane and allow her the joy of a man who could offer her more than cold and callous sisters. So passed the rest of the days following Christmas until the day of the Lucas' Twelfth Night party was upon them.

Both were determined that they would say goodbye to the other.

Both were determined that, though the other was the epitome of all that was good and perfect, the other's happiness and well-being was more important than their own.

Both were determined that they would never love another as they loved now.

Both were quite determined to hold to all of their determinations… until their gazes met in the Lucas' crowded entry way. Mr. Bingley smiled - for what else could he do with faced with such goodness, kindness, and beauty? Jane glowed – for how else could she respond to such a warm gaze and amiable spirit?

Mr. Bingley held out his arm.

She took it.

Both were determined that all their previous determinations were very wrong indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

The Means of Uniting Them

Chapter 7

To the neighborhood surrounding Meryton, no Christmas season was complete without the Lucas' Twelfth Night celebrations. Elaborate decorations, games, wassail, and a cake brought from a confectioners shop in London – the price of which was shared by Sir William to anyone who would listen – made such an evening of revelry that few would forget. Cakes, characters, lights, merry rooms, little holiday faces, and last but not least, the painted sugar on the cake, so bad to eat but so fine to look at —all conspired to throw a giddy splendor over the last night of the season.

Perhaps the most favored pastime was the selection of characters for the evening. Each year, Lady Lucas and her daughters created decorative cards of all the different identities and they were passed out as soon as guests arrived. Characters included Frederica Flirt, Sir Gregory Goose, Sir Tumbelly Clumsy, Miss Fanny Fanciful, Shepherdess, Fortune Teller, a beau, Mrs. Candor, Miss Romance and Mr. Croakthroat. Everybody was somebody else, and learned at once to laugh at, and to tolerate, characters different from their own, by enacting them. The Lucases always provided costumes and props for the guests to don after the characters had been distributed and all the guests had arrived.

The Bennet family, on being one of the last to arrive, were given their cards and then directed immediately to the library to pick out their masks and props. Mrs. Bennet had been given the Shepherdess card, Mr. Bennet – Lord Spendthrift, Elizabeth – Miss Romance, Mary – Milk Maid, Kitty – Miss Polly Parrot, and Lydia – Miss Maud Mute. All but Lydia were quite happy with their character for the evening and eagerly dressed the part. It was not till the family had moved into the parlor that Elizabeth noticed Jane's absence. Warily she scanned the room for her sister but not only did she not spot her amongst the guests but Mr. Bingley also seemed to be missing! Her concern quickly turned to excitement and she resolved to do everything in her power to hide Jane and Mr. Bingley's absence from everyone else.

Refreshments were served by masked servants and Elizabeth soon sought out Charlotte, whom she found serving the wassail. Accepting a glass from her friend, Elizabeth introduced herself.

"Miss Romance, ma'am. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Mrs. Candor," Charlotte curtsied. "The pleasure is all mine."

"Mrs. Candor! How fitting!"

"Indeed. I do think my mother took the insinuations a little far this year."

"That must be why poor Lydia is 'Miss Maud Mute.' How terrible for her!"

"And where is Jane? I haven't seen her this evening."

At that, Elizabeth moved closer to her friend and whispered conspiratorially, "Oh Charlotte! I haven't seen her since we entered the house and Mr. Bingley didn't reenter the room after we arrived. I am quite positive that he is proposing!"

"Well Miss Romance, you are taking your character very seriously."

Elizabeth laughed at her friend's teasing. "I cannot help it. I am so happy for her Charlotte. She deserves all the happiness in the world."

At that moment, Jane glided into the parlor with a smile so genuine and overwhelming that Elizabeth was quite sure everyone in the room would know about the engagement by dinner just from her happy expression. Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give pleasure and instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world. "'Tis too much!" she added, "by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! Why is not everybody as happy? Oh Lizzy! Oh Charlotte! I am the happiest woman in the world! Mr. Bingley has proposed!"

Elizabeth and Charlotte's congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane, but she would not allow herself to stay with her sister and friend, or say half that remained to be said for the present. "I must go instantly to my mother," Jane cried. "I would not on any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude or allow her to hear it from anyone but myself. He is gone to father already. Oh! Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear family! How shall I bear so much happiness!" She then hastened away to her mother.

"See, Mrs. Candor? Miss Romance was correct in her assumptions!"

"Mother will be displeased if Jane's happiness overshadows her party."

Elizabeth was at first quite offended at Charlotte's brusque reply until she turned and saw the small smirk on her face. "Ah, Mrs. Candor, I suppose you are correct. But surely there can be no need to make such an announcement this evening."

"Have you met your mother, Miss Romance?"

"Too true, Mrs. Candor. Too True."

They were then joined by Mr. Bingley, whose conference with her father had been short and to the point.

"Where is your sister?" said he hastily, as he searched the room.

"She has gone to tell our mother. I'm sure she will be back in a moment."

He then seemed to recollect himself and claimed the good wishes and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her delight in the prospect of their relationship, as did Charlotte. They shook hands with great cordiality and then, till her sister returned, they listened to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane's perfections. In spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for basis the excellent understanding, and super-excellent disposition of Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and himself.

At length, Charlotte reminded the group of the party going on around them by asking, "And what character are you supposed to be tonight, sir?"

"Why I am the Turk, madam." He graced them with an elegant bow. "However, I have yet to claim my turban. Could you point me in the correct direction?"

Charlotte willingly gave him the directions to the library and he immediately left them to dress his part. Dinner was announced soon after Jane and Mr. Bingley had returned and, as Mr. Bingley had claimed Jane's hand as they were walking into the dining room, Elizabeth did not have the opportunity to see how her sister's audience with Mrs. Bennet had gone or to again express her delight in the circumstances. The meal itself was magnificent with mince meat pies, potatoes, venison, partridges, and two large pheasants. The desserts in particular – trifles, nougat almond cakes, strawberries, jellies, marzipan, plum-pudding and of course the exalted Twelfth Night cake – were enough to make everyone swoon with delight.

After the meal had concluded, everyone adjourned again to the parlor where a game of charades was introduced as the next event. It so happened that Jane and Mr. Bingley were walking past Lady Lucas – or the Twelfth Night Queen as she had dubbed herself – when the lady of the house noticed that Jane was not dressed as a character.

"My dear Miss Bennet, what has happened to your identity? Did you lose it perhaps? I don't exactly remember who you were assigned, but you must be a character before we begin out game."

"Oh, I am sorry, Lady – I mean, your Majesty. I didn't receive a card on the way in and then was so occupied," here she seemed to blush, "that I quite forgot. Do you have another character for me?"

Lady Lucas looked quite flustered and was mortified that somehow a guest at her famed party had not received their card. Before she could create an alternate plan, Mrs. Bennet spoke quite loudly and excitedly, "Why! She can just play the soon to be _Mrs. Turk_!"

A very uncomfortable silence followed the proclamation. Both Mr. Bingley and Jane blushed violently at her mother's lack of decorum and inadvertent announcement of their engagement. Charlotte could barely contain her laughter and, on catching her eye, Elizabeth soon joined her friend in a deep laughter. Soon the whole room was smiling and congratulating the couple.

"We had hoped to delay the announcement until after the party, but," Mr. Bingley declared, "I cannot be sorry that you all know. Miss Bennet has made me the happiest of men!"

It was an evening of uncommon delight to them all. The satisfaction of Miss Bennet's mind gave a glow of such sweet animation to her face, as made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty and Lydia simpered and smiled, hoping their turn was coming soon. Mrs. Bennet could not speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings and, though she tried to be present to the festivities, her mind was much too occupied with thoughts of two of her daughters married by the summer. At the end of the evening, Lady Lucas and Sir William were quite happy with the success of their celebration, though the lady might have harbored some resentment towards the Bennet family for yet another daughter's engagement.

Mrs. Bennet went to bed incredibly happy and woke up with such a determination to marry Jane and Mr. Bingley in a double ceremony with Mary and Mr. Collins in a little over two weeks that it took all of Mr. Bennet's, Elizabeth's, and Jane's powers of persuasion to show her that such a feat was not possible – Jane would need a new gown and a much more elaborate trousseau than Mary and, Jane's argument, Mary should really be allowed her own special day. Finally Mrs. Bennet was resigned to a wedding in April, though it took Mr. Bingley's hearty affirmation of such a plan for her to truly think it the best.

"Mrs. Bennet, of course I would like to be married to my dear Jane as soon as may be, but I believe that a wedding in April would be best for all concerned. And did you not say, my dear, that April is your favorite month?"

Jane smiled serenely and answered in the affirmative. Elizabeth felt this would be an excellent opportunity to remind her mother of the other plans that should be taken in to consideration.

"Indeed, Mama, had we not already decided that I would travel to Kent in March to see Mary and Mr. Collins? This way, you and Jane can travel with me as far as London, perhaps we could leave a few weeks before if Jane wishes me to be with her while shopping, and then I can go on to Hunsford. I will be back at the beginning of April so this way I will still be able to help you with all the preparations."

"It does seem best," Jane soothed to her mother.

"Yes, yes, you are quite right. And this way I can truly plan the celebration that you and Mr. Bingley deserve! Oh my dear dear Jane! How happy you have made me!" Mrs. Bennet's effusions soon caused the family to escape the breakfast room, where this conversation had taken place, and find other amusements. The days leading up to Mary's wedding continued in a similar fashion – Mrs. Bennet woke to the difficult decision of what to be most excited about. With the planning of her third daughter's wedding taking up most of her time, Mrs. Bennet usually chose to speak endlessly about how they were saved from the hedgerows and how happy Mary had made her. Every third or fourth day, however, was filled with exclamations of joy on behalf of Mr. Bingley and Jane.

Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted by the Gardiners as his marriage was now fast approaching. Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on Wednesday Miss Mary Bennet paid her farewell visits to the neighborhood. On her return, Mary expressed to Elizabeth and Jane that she was absolutely exhausted from all of the attention. "Mother barely let me speak with all her declarations of joy. I shall be very glad when tomorrow is over and I am Mrs. Collins."

"Shall you not miss us at all, Mary?" Elizabeth teased.

"Of course I shall," she replied. "I shall depend on hearing from you both very often."

"That you certainly shall."

"And I very much look forward to your visit in March." Mary seemed to lose a bit of composure as she admitted her own desire to not be left alone for too long with her husband and it stirred more sisterly affection in Elizabeth than any other statement.

"Dearest Mary, you shall not have a moment to miss us as you get settled into your new life, and just when you feel comfortable, I will come in and disturb everything!"

"Lizzy, you could never be a disturbance. I shall be very happy to see you."

And then, before anyone had quite realized how fast time had flown, the wedding took place. The bride and bridegroom set off for Kent after a simple wedding breakfast at Longbourn, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on the subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her sister and Mary's first letters were received with a good deal of eagerness. There could not but be curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to be. When the letters were read, however, Elizabeth felt that Mary expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote practically and seemed surrounded with comforts. The house, furniture, neighborhood, and roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine's behavior was as condescending as had been anticipated. It seemed Mary was determined to be happy and there was underlying strength in her letters that seemed to speak of contentment in her own situation.

With no greater events than these in the neighborhood, January and half of February passed away. After the excitement and rush of the Christmas season, the following weeks were rather dull to the Bennet ladies. The weather was cold and the company confined, though Jane's continually glowing face and Mr. Bingley's daily visits – despite the snow and ice – were enough to keep the family from complete desolation.

It had been decided that Mr. Bingley would travel with Mrs. Bennet and her two eldest daughters into town where the women would stay with the Gardiners for two weeks before Elizabeth continued on to Hunsford. Though shopping did not excite Mr. Bingley, even if it involved his angel, he was particularly glad that the Hursts offered to let him stay with them and had even acquiesced to a dinner party on the second evening of their stay so that the Hursts could officially welcome Miss Bennet to the family. Though he was disappointed that Caroline had still not written to him or apologized for her unkind words, he was comforted by the fact that the Hursts had taken the initiative to accept his future wife and that Caroline at least wouldn't be there to interfere. And so it was that on the 18th of February, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth climbed into Mr. Bingley's coach, accompanied by Mrs. Bennet's delighted, and loudly exuberant, exclamations, headed towards London.


End file.
